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2014.01.14 - Good Luck
It is a cold afternoon. The polar vortex seems to be drunkenly staggering back to bother America once again. But thankfully, the skies are clear and free of snow and ice. The sky is a brilliant, bright clear blue. The streets seem quiet, as cold is still a fair repellant to people and it is the gap between school being out, lunch break and workers breaking free into the world. For now, one of the sole occupants of a sidewalk along in front of some of the small, odd cafes and shops is Rain. She has a box and a shopping bag with her, seeming to prefer walking during the day when she is busy. Besides, cold weather flying is sort of a pain. And try explaining the flaming pigeons to cops. Freaking pigeons. But she seems quietly cheerful, looking around at the shops with her cargo in tow. Stepping out of one of those cafes, Olena glances up and down the street. Her gloveless hands wrap around a cardboard coffee cup, the steam visible off the top of it where the lid is cracked slightly to allow her to sip. It takes a moment, but she recognizes the girl with the shopping bag as the myshenya accompanying the trickster god who yanked Mystique's tail... in more ways than one. Stepping off the low step before the coffee shop, she turns and begins walking toward the other girl. A wry half-smile touches her thin lips. She touches a pair of fingers to her brow in a light salute of greeting. "Good luck," is her greeting. Rain is indeed, the mousey lady who tails around behind Loki. She seems cheerful, wide-eyed and in awe of the world today. And one key to surviving city side walks is to notice the people. There's a Wild Olena right there! Rain blinks, shaken out of her little train of reverie. She smiles, waves. "Hello there! Good luck to you, too." She seems a bit awkward and shy to start with, in the ways that those fond of her profession are. At least she keeps off of Youtube comments. "How are you?" She asks, trying to think. "I - um, you're - Miss-" Use your words, Rain. "Oksana Balanchuk," Olena says by way of introduction, using the alias she's adopted in the States. "We have not properly met." The Ukrainian girl's accent is heavy, but understandable. "But, you were with man who pulled blue woman's tail other day." Her English isn't perfect, perhaps, but it's improved greatly over the past year and change. "I know her. If he can do that to her, and you are with him..." She smiles, suppressing a dry chuckle with single, dry cough instead. "Good luck." A beat. "You will need it." Rain nods, "Pleased to meet you, Oksana. I go by Rain. Before you ask, my real name tends to be pretty embarrassing," Rain turns a bit red. "And yeah, I will admit I was pretty distracted." And/or concerned. Rain is a bit odd, but she doesn't seem ruffled in the slightest. She does seem to pause and think a bit. "Yeah. I'm in an apprenticeship," She admits. "I was worried about her," Rain admits. At the good luck comment, Rain looks a bit pained and grins sheepishly. "Oh. For sure. He's very spur of the moment," She offers. "I've already had a couple of mishaps." She's apparently an optimist. And polite. "Are you the blue lady's friend?" She tilts her head. "Mishaps," Olena echoes. She chuckles. "Da. I am sure." Taking a sip of her coffee, she suppresses another chuckle. "But... da. Friends. Is... close enough." How to explain Mystique isn't truly friends with anyone -- and that Olena's main relationship with her is as a hired gun and occasional accidental student. A shrug. Another wry smile. "As you say, is sort of apprenticeship. She is big girl; can handle herself. I do not worry about her." She doesn't worry about Loki, either. Because it was plainly obvious he could handle himself. "I do not worry about him, either." A beat. "Worry more about city, I think." Rain nods. That's - one way of putting it. "I see." Rain is quiet a moment, thoughtful. "I suspect you're right." Anyone who can stand up to Loki like that and NOT end up in a smoldering crater is still heads and tails over the competition. And really, Loki's best friend is ... probably himself. Rain /does/ care, as that seems to be her way. But she is mindful that he could red paste her in .0003 seconds, and there's far, far worse things than Death. Rain glances over her shoulder. "After car chess, and car tetris and the smoldering crater... Yeah, I'd worry about the city, too. I sorta tried to stop the car tetris and almost got squished," Headshake. "Or the monster battle in the park... But. Supposedly, near Brooklyn, the reality barrier's a bit thinner. I keep meaning to take him by there to look. I don't think either of us would be happy to have magic things running all over town." And she's also hoping it's not a golden opportunity for chaos. "So, keep a glance over your shoulder over there, I think." Olena knows jack-squat about magic, really. Mutant powers? Lots. Magic? Not so much. "I always do," she says, however. Indeed, she kind of can't help it, since that's sort of her unique talent. She regards the witch for a moment, a dark-eyed evaluating look. "You, too. We may have to keep eye out on each other's back, when necessary." Rain seems sympathetic to that. She nods. "And sure. I usually - heal and find things. That's generally what I do best, but..." She's a witch and magic is often quite flexible. "I mean, I actually get pretty decent amounts of food for fixing hangovers alone." Rain contemplates this. She looks to Olena, with dark purple eyes. "I try to keep it sort of on the down low outside of folks needing healing, but." She shrugs and smiles faintly. "I'll do my best." She doesn't seem to mind. Rain is odd, and more than a little awkward. But friendly. Pause. "And besides, I bet you can't turn me into a goat." Always look on the bright side. Olena arches a brow and then chuckles again, a warm, knowing sound. "No," she concedes. "Though I do know man who can change himself into goat." A beat. "Changing back to man is more of problem. But, he is clever goat. Raids market in Genosha for best stuff. All kinds. Makes for great fixer." She flashes a grin. "Cheap, too. All you need is weeds from side of road." The reference to Genosha might give some indication of Olena's own abilities, but she doesn't give quite the same full disclosure Rain does. She's got that cagey, streetwise look about her, even when she's being inordinately friendly -- as she is now, actually. To be fair, Rain can do lots of stuff she hasn't mentioned! Like the toaster of war. She tilts her head and smiles. "Really? That sounds kind of awesome," Rain considers it. She nods, listening at a smile. But Rain doesn't indicate if she knows or not. Still, if one's a healer, it's - sometimes wise to give a headsup. Genosha makes her look thoughtful. And maybe Rain is glad for the inordinate friendliness. Though, Rain does look over her shoulder, then back. Rain seems the sort to wander and bumble about in the world. It's a wonder a large land predator hasn't gotten her. Yet. Again. Hmmm. Either way, she seems remarkably easy going. "I hope that wasn't too much." Was she talking too much? Rain ponders this. The funny thing, really, is that, ordinarily, Olena isn't the talkative one. But, to be fair, that's usually when she's in situations where she's feeling less than confident about the outcome. Or surrounded by freaking omega-class mutants with a penchant for blowing up mountains or entire Humanity First bases with a thought. (Or a lot of well-placed semtex.) "No, is fine," she says in response. A mild shrug. "Is nice, sometimes, to meet people who understand the..." Pressure? Well, not exactly... "nuances," she decides, "of associating with people such as your friend and mine." Rain is awkward to start with. Then she became an engineer. Then she became surrounded by cosmic forces and turned out to have magic and life just kept dropping marbles on her, like an inverse Hungry Hungry Hippo game. Her survival instinct left for mai thais ages ago, anyway. If she's curious, she'll be there. Although, to be fair, Humanity First generally tends to have it coming. "... yeah. That's a good word for it. I could get pasted in seconds if I upset him and all," Rain shrugs and smiles a little. It's sort of calming to know if, not when. "I do learn a lot." But overall, Rain seems to agree. She peers to her box and then back to Olena. "And the shapeshifting. I guess it's good to be on your toes." Olena barks a laugh. "On your toes, on your feet, with three escape routes mapped out ahead of time." Her expression grows more serious. "I will warn you, Rain: Mystique is just as dangerous to mere mortals such as we as your friend will ever be -- for all, I think, he has more power than she. Her body is living weapon. And she can impersonate anyone she has met even for few seconds." A beat, and a rueful shrug. "You... you do not seem sort to associate with such killers." Though that implies that Olena is that sort. "Be careful, myshenya." Rain grins at that. "That's very wise," She agrees. She too, looks more solemn as she listens. "Mystique. And I understand. Yeah, she looked different before he and she - with the shifting," Hand motion. "That seems tough in its own way," She remarks. "And yeah, I get that a lot. Normally I wouldn't. But when you get a chance to learn, and you're homeless..." She shakes her head. "Well, I was homeless. Then the house landed on my aunt." Sometimes, a profession comes with its /own/ hazards. "Also, it kinda helps me keep a tab on what goes on and stuff. I've met a lot of people related to him who are nice. And that means a lot," Rain goes quiet. "Yeah. I'll do my best. But I you, too? Although, that seems really redundant because I think you have this careful thing on lockdown." A half-smile. "I am not keeping you, am I? Oh! Did you want my number in case you - ... uhm... hmm. Need a witch?" She is so bad at this. A witch might be a useful contact to have. Though, Olena does arch a brow at the whole house-dropping thing. But, then, she's pretty sure that Mystique must have had a union with the Devil himself to produce a son that looks as Kurt Wagner does. (And Wagner's 'damnable good nature', as Mystique calls it, is easily explained by the whole fallen angel thing Satan's got going.) So, maybe the Wizard of Oz motif isn't as strange as she'd first thought. Besides, she associates with Mutants (yes, with a capital M). Is a mutant (little M, 'cause she's not quite in the same league as capital-M Mutants). She has her own cross to bear. And that makes her very careful, yes. "You are not keeping me." She lifts her coffee cup. "I am on break. Off until evening. But, sure. I will take number." She gives a wry smile. "I understand homeless. Was homeless, too. I do not carry phone." Not quite true. "But, have arrangement with barkeep at Sly Fox in East Village." Locally known as a great Ukrainian pub. "Leave message for me, there. I will call." Rain puts people together real good! And cures hangovers. And newtings. Ahem. She pauses at the eyebrow arching. "Yeah. I didn't believe it either, at first. But that's why you never work spells drunk, I guess." She rubs the back of her head. And a bit of life advice Rain keeps to herself. Rain associates with ... a lot of folk that should concern her more. Her survival instincts, when she's not cowering, seem to have gone out the window. Much like an actual, determined mouse. Rain is pretty happy with the mutants and Mutants she knows. Although, it seems hard to genuinely upset her. "That's good," Rain nods and smiles. "And yeah? Okay, I'll remember that," Rain promises. "And good for the break." Better clarify that. Her phone beeps, her eyes nearly cross and she checks it. "Oh. I think I may have to be the one to go. I guess someone's got a small basilisk in their basement." Being an occult detective is weird. "I'd better go get it before it gets loose." Sigh. "But I am really glad I got to see you." Beam. Olena nods to that. She offers a small smile of her own. "Gotta watch those basilisks, I hear," she says dryly. "Worse than cockroaches." Yeah. She knows nothing about basilisks, except maybe a few half-remembered stories from when she was a kid. So, her mien suggests a certain dry humour along the same lines as theatre-lover who knows nothing about sports teams. "Good luck," she says again, the words as good a farewell as a greeting. She raises her coffee lightly, the steam still rising from its lip. "I will see you around, Rain." Rain quirks a smile at that. "They can be. I tend to mostly worry about them establishing a nest somewhere they shouldn't and bothering folks," She remarks. But she accepts it and goes with it with a smile. "Thank you. good luck to you, too. Be well and stay safe." Rain - has no coffee to raise, but uses the box. Yeah, there we go. "See you around." Nod. And off she scampers. "Dang basilisks." Category:Log